Sorry! & An Ode to Endings

I do want to apologize for my lack of presence here as Sawyer and I have been getting ready for our move down to Philadelphia! It’s been incredibly hectic, and while I have been racking my brains to keep the stream of new ideas flowing, I haven’t been able to tap them out and post them to my digital space (yet!).

It has been a hectic couple of weeks that have lead up to today. It still didn’t feel entirely real that I would be moving away from my childhood home of Vermont until I woke up this morning and sat down at my laptop to compose a (hopefully) more polished version of the emotional tumult behind the curtain. Now, with nervous energy simmering right below the surface, I’ll be moving furniture out of Sunrise Spot and into the dark green trailer that will harbor our life for the next 30 hours. It will sit there in the Vermont warmth and overpowering humidity until we’re unpacking and moving that furniture into our new apartment in Philadelphia.

While I am sad to be leaving Sunrise Spot after less than a year of appreciating just how wonderful a space it truly is, the emotions over leaving dear friends behind in my exodus are much more powerful. I didn’t feel as though I was leaving until today because I was constantly packing more and more into the limited time of the days this week in order to see everyone, to make plans, to say “see you later” (but not goodbye), to experience that emotion which Jean Paul Richter so adeptly penned: Man’s feelings are always purest and most glowing in the hour of meeting and of farewell. I am looking forward, already, to seeing them all again. Because of course we will see each other again – the world is too small and our friendships too great to be parted for forever.

With that happy thought and a plastic cup of water, it’s a little bit easier to start my morning. It also feels good to be writing again: I’m thankful for waking up early enough to write this down (not to mention the kittens are happy to have early morning company, too). Most everything we have is packed into boxes, crates, bags, and bins clustered around the sleeping form of our friend Tony asleep on the discarded mattress pad in our common area. Tony has been kind enough to help us move our belongings from our second-floor apartment to the moving truck that will soon be parked in the driveway. Actions like this one – and another like the promise that Katie has made to help us clean Sunrise Spot before our final departure – are reminders of how many people love and care for us here (and give us endless reasons to return for visits).

I want to let everyone know that I may have another brief absence as I work out a new Internet provider in Philadelphia, but I’ll be back in the digital world by the end of next week without a doubt! However, now that it is rapidly approaching 7AM, it’s time for me to get in gear and start finishing up the final touches for moving out of Sunrise Spot. I am thankful to have lived in this beautiful place, in such a lush green state, surrounded by so many wonderful people. I am incredibly saddened to be leaving, but in the words of Charles Dickens: The pain of parting is nothing to the joy of meeting again

On our last morning in Sunrise Spot, Gatsby wants to enjoy the view from every window. I don’t blame him.